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French Bureaucracy

temporary "Carte de Sejour" with US Passport and Carte Blue.    France has a bureaucracy just like every other country but their rules were just enough different from the US to keep us in constant worry that something could go terribly wrong: We needed a visa to stay more than three months;  The visa required us to chase down every possible scrap of paperwork that could verify that we were not going to be a burden to their state;  We had to answer yet more specifics about what each family member would be doing during our stay;  Could we prove that we were really married? Were our children really our own?  Did anyone, including our four-year-old, have a criminal record....  We wanted the kids to attend a French school so that they could really experience France (and learn to speak the language fluently) so we had to deal with the French public school system: Had the children been given all their vaccines? Were they healthy? Could we provide identity papers and photos?  The local "Prefet" also got to chime in because our length of stay required a "Cart de Sejour" which seems to be sort of a "green card" for people staying for more than the maximum (3 months) allowed for tourists.  Oh, and it would be nice to have local finances rather than trying to write checks on a bank thousands of miles away or carry wads of cash all the time.  All this required many trips to the French Consulate two hours away, many telephone calls, emails and faxes and a tremendous burden on my in-laws for which I am very grateful. 
 
   Once we arrived in France we knew that there would be still be a few more details, meaning a few more government details but--oh my.  The French claim to dislike bureaucracy and seem to ignore or openly flaunt authority whenever possible but that only causes the controlling authorities to hire more bureaucrats to enforce their edicts.  The result is that we have passed through the private domains of many petty clerks that have invested a lot of their ego in directing the behavior of anyone in their lair.  Ok, that part isn't so different even at home but what is surprising is how broadly this practice has been implemented.  At one department store we had to deal with five distinct and clearly guarded domains: first the sales clerk who wasn't there to help you find your item but only to fill out the slip of paper that you needed for the next rite of passage (I don't think anyone at that store was in charge of helping the customer.)  Each section of the store had a separate sales clerk so don't even consider asking the young women at the electronics counter to help you with houseware.  Once having satisfied the proper sales clerk that you really knew what you wanted to buy, you are now worthy to pay for the item and obtain permission (conveniently printed in quadruplicate) to pursue collecting the actual item.  Standing in another line with your properly printed form which has been stamped "paid" allows you to request that another clerk check go see if your item is available (I don't know what happens if it isn't) and he graciously separates your quadruplicate form: one he keeps, one he hands to a runner who disappears into the warehouse to retrieve the chosen item, one is returned to you and the last...I don't know who exactly gets the last one.  If any of the above dignitaries happen to be away from their station for any reason I'm pretty sure everyone else is required to simply wait until lunch is over or the phone call to his girlfriend is finished.  No one would dare to violate the sanctity of anyone else's domain.

A woman sitting in a train seat holding a small chest x-ray in front of her  Back to the Government.  After having waited for a couple of hours with our assigned number we passed our interview because my wife was armed with some five pounds of paper that had been requested by previous bureaucrats.  We were thanked, given a temporary Carte de Sejour and sent on our way.  The permanent carte requires a physical exam so we got an appointment and headed for an unmarked secret location where all the local Carte-de-Sejour-physical-exam-officials are hidden.  Several interviews and a chest x-ray later, we were worthy of paying some 200 Euros each.  Ah, but not so fast.  One can not simply pay a French government agency.  You must first obtain the appropriate "stamp".  This practice must be some kind of leftover from times when higher level government officials distrusted their underlings and so came up with separate stamps for each bureau to make sure nobody was skimming off the top or spending the wrong funds.  That's all fine except that by the time we found the place to buy the proper stamp, it was closed.  By the way, one must make sure that the stamp purchased is of the right flavor and don't loose it because they are not refundable.  My father-in-law still has some fifty euros worth of French government stamps that the French government won't accept because they are for an expense that he hasn't yet encountered.

  Post note: After procrastinating for several months we began to feel guilty for not paying so I went to the Prefet to buy my stamps.  No problem.  Since I was paying with a "Carte Bleue" (the French version of the Visa Card) I was able to skip the interrogation that is imposed on check-writers and I had my stamps.  Unfortunately, I still had this notion that I was done.  No.  I kept expecting that since I had been correctly stamped, notarized, and x-rayed I could simply mail in or possibly drop off the completed form.  No.  I was told to wait in line.  After a half-hour I finally arrived at the Clerk-who-checks-to-see-if -you-really-have-all-your-sh*t-together.  Mais, where was my passport, where was the second person to go with the second set of paperwork, where was her passport, and a bunch of other explanations that were in French so I have no way of knowing what they were about. 

  Post Post Note:  With Maïté in tow, we returned to the Prefet and offered once more to pay (after waiting in line for another half-hour).  The Clerk-who-checks... was very pleased to see us with our proper paperwork and granted us permission to pay with our properly affixed stamps of the right flavor.  As it turned out, all of the preceding was just in preparation for this grande finale.  We were invited to present our passports so that we could have a "Titre de Sejour" sticker pasted onto one of the pages.  Ohh I get it.  We weren't going to get a "carte" at all.  Just a sticker.  A Two-Hundred-Euro sticker.  I was a little disappointed.  I had been hoping for some kind of plastic laminated identity card with my picture and lots of official looking words and tamper-proof embellishments.  Rien.  Just a sticker.  Even worse they took my blue temporary carte so now I have to carry my passport.  I doubt anyone will ever check to see if I have that sticker.  Hmpff.  For two hundred euros and half-a-dozen trips they could've given me a card.


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